


Certainty of Tides

by MyresLight



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abuse, Amnesia, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Nebula-centric (Marvel), Non-Consensual Body Modification, Recovery, Sister-Sister Relationship, i just rly love nebula guys, let me know if i've missed any tags, shameless insertion of my nebula headcannons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 03:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20302711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyresLight/pseuds/MyresLight
Summary: At every opportunity, Thanos pairs Nebula with Gamora.Be it for competition, training, or war, the sisters are disciplined and appraised as a matching item.They are two halves of a whole. A weary, broken machine.A look at Nebula growing up under Thanos, and her relationship with Gamora.





	Certainty of Tides

**Author's Note:**

> This is the half-baked result of a 6-hour car journey that I “polished up” because I would die for Nebula.

She doesn’t remember her parents. She doesn’t remember her home. She doesn’t remember life before Thanos. At times she wonders if he took her memories as well as her body, if he manufactured her life to start and end as a child of Thanos, an instrument of his devices, a tool to further his dream of universal “balance”.

When Nebula was first taken by the titan, Gamora had been under his discipline for three years. In any other circumstance, there would have been friendship. Maybe there was, at the start, but Thanos ensured that whatever solace Nebula might have otherwise found in her sister was distorted into a cruel rivalry.

The more he took from her, the more her sister escaped, the further away Nebula draws from her. Her perfect sister, who never lost a fight. Obedient, docile, and loyal.

At the start it wasn’t hatred, merely envy.

* * *

She’s knocked to the ground again.

Her father watches every fight, watching over the two of them with an increasingly critical eye. 

She pleads with her sister, desperation painted clear across her face. _One. Please, let me win just one. _Some days, she thinks she sees regret on Gamora’s. On others it’s blank resignation.

_Just one._

_It’s all I want._

Again, and again, she hits the ground.

_Please._

_Just one._

It becomes more difficult to get up.

* * *

She thinks she knows pain.

Then her father takes her eye. And her arm. And her leg. He delves into her head and changes and twists. He removes and edits. He adds and erases. When he’s finished, she can’t remember her name.

The girl she was no longer exists, in her place stands a living weapon of her father’s design.

* * *

At every opportunity, Thanos pairs Nebula with Gamora. 

Be it for competition, training, or war, the sisters are disciplined and appraised as a matching item.

But they both know that they are not held in matching regard.

Gamora is viewed as the elder, the commander. She is the unobtainable ideal, the most prized tool in Thanos’ arsenal.

Nebula the younger, the foot soldier. Always striving for perfection, for acceptance, but never failing to fall short.

Gamora is the fiercest woman in the galaxy, an assassin who has sacrificed all traces of humanity. Nebula is the spare, the heavy lifter, the rage that her sister has left behind. They mirror each other in weariness and misery.

They are two halves of a whole. A weary, broken machine.

* * *

When she was still small, Nebula liked to conjure up images of her home world.

The grass would be yellow, the sky would have two moons, the mountains would fly, and the seas would dance. Her people would run free through dark woods and map the stars. They would greet each other with a kiss.

One year with Thanos became two, became ten.

The dreams soon stop.

* * *

Her sister isn’t a cruel person. At times she seems saintly compared to Nebula’s other siblings. She’s not a cruel person, but that doesn’t make her a good one.

Thanos gives instructions, and Gamora carries them out. Artefacts are stolen, homes are burned, people are killed, and through it all Gamora stands at their father’s right hand, expression schooled into one of cool neutrality.

Not that Nebula calls herself kind by any stretch of the imagination. She follows her instructions dutifully, like a good daughter, but she lacks Gamora’s devotion to their father. That she pretends he is their father in fact, looking ever towards him, moulding herself in his footsteps, is perhaps the most abhorrent thing that Nebula sees in her sister.

Nebula never fools herself like that. That’s what she tells herself. She’s a killer, a machine.

But she never pretends.

* * *

_Does she?_

* * *

Nebula has other siblings. She tries not to think about them.

While she truly hates Gamora, the least that can be said about her is that, when they fight, deep down Nebula knows that she will walk away with breath still in her body.

That reassurance doesn’t exist with the others.

Ebony Maw takes delight in carrying out their father’s whims, Cull Obsidian seems more beast than man, in both looks and nature, Corvus Glaive is spiteful and embittered and cruel, and Proxima Midnight see herself as a champion of Thanos’ rule. Their loyal couldn’t be questioned.

Nebula despises each of them.

Nothing any of them do compares to the perfection of Gamora. Envy becomes anger. Anger is good; it makes her stronger, burns away everything else.

Anger is easier.

* * *

She’s stopped bruising.

Now there is almost nothing living about her body; veins have become wires, skin has turned to metal. She couldn’t even guess what her species was before Thanos.

It almost feels like a good thing.

* * *

Out of all of them, Gamora holds the favour of their father. Nebula doesn’t believe Thanos to be capable of love, but what ever he is capable of, her sister is the one to receive it.

Nebula hates her for it. She hates her father too, she knows she does. But try as she might, she can’t stop herself from yearning for his approval. Part of her hopes that with approval, there will also come mercy.

Sometimes he doesn’t even look at her with hate, just indifference. As if she were just a manikin, a target whose purpose was furthering Gamora’s skill. He looks at her and doesn’t see a person, just an object.

And that fact hurts most of all.

* * *

Time passes. More of her slips away, until she feels herself becoming a machine in more than just body.

She starts to enjoy it. The killing. Her life is hell, so it’s hell that she inflicts upon others. She can take life with a gesture. It’s the only time she feels powerful.

It’s the only time she feels in control.

* * *

Through the years she has tried to dampen her emotions, repress them one by one, until only hate remains. Hatred is easier, uncomplicated and impartial. Hate for Gamora, hate for Thanos, for her siblings, for Xandar. Hate for herself.

She has come to believe that it’s the only way to live.

She was foolish. She believed that Ronan could take on Thanos. That her father’s empire could be pulled down, uprooted and burned, ashes scattered and trod-upon. Nebula believed that she could escape.

In some ways, she was right. After her betrayal, the path back to her father has been closed off. She could never hope to survive his judgment. Survival has been the only instinct keeping Nebula alive. She won’t throw it away now.

She’s no longer caged, nor is she free.

She just is.

* * *

She hears the talk. Gamora, daughter of Thanos, has been pardoned of her crimes. A guardian of the galaxy.

_How sanctimonious._

She remembers what Gamora looked like on the Dark Aster, remembers how _alive_ she seemed. Her sister has broken the cycle, she has a life outside of their father’s rule. She has friends, a purpose.

Nebula doesn’t think she’s ever hated her more.

* * *

She moves from place to place. She steals and lies.

She doesn’t have a home, but she’s never had a home.

Children stare, but when she turns to where she feels their glares, the space is empty. They flee from her. They find her chilling to look at, a freak of nature, a lab experiment gone wrong.

The worst of it is how right they are.

* * *

The end goal is Thanos, Nebula believe it always has been. To what end she doesn’t know. If anyone were to ask her then she would reply instantly with words of reckoning and vengeance. Painting a picture of cold murder. Meticulous in execution_. _She remembers Ronan, she remembers what she promised then, and it remains the same now. She would see a hundred thousand worlds rendered to ash for a chance at revenge.

The truth, which she admits to no one, not even herself, is that she has no idea what she’ll do when she next sees her father. He is the only father she has ever known, killing him breaks her last tie to her life before. She had no identity until Thanos forged one for her out of metal and death.

While she claims to not know fear, that thought of losing that persona, as broken as it is, is one that terrifies her.

* * *

_Who is she really? What _use_ is she? What can she _do_?_

* * *

When the sisters next meet, Nebula has spent four months imprisoned by the Sovereign. They have not been kind.

Constant solitude has been broken only by short interrogations about either the batteries or, on slower days, her cybernetics.

The most productive thing that can be said about this period is that time alone has allowed reflection. Not that Nebula has ever thought herself to be the introspective type, but four months alone in a ten-foot cell have somewhat limited her entertainment options.

She thinks of her sister, and instead of an all-consuming rage, instead there is only simple bitterness.

The fire that fuelled her drive for vengeance has somewhat abated. She didn’t believe that the Sovereign would let her go.

She gets her hands on a ship and the fire is fanned again.

She wants an apology, an acknowledgement. She wants Gamora to realise that_ she_ is the reason that Nebula suffered.

_Look at me. Look at me and see not the girl you fought, but the sister you abandoned._

They wrestle on the ground, kicking and punching, and at the end of it, Nebula just lets go. Twenty-five years of rivalry and betrayal comes rushing out and as Gamora looks at her in shock, Nebula feels emptier, and yet lighter than she’s ever been.

She feels liberated.

* * *

_You will always be my sister._

Gamora wraps her arms around Nebula and it feels _right_. It feels like this is the way it always should have been, the two of them standing united against their father, against the universe and all its galaxies.

There is apology and compassion and forgiveness all wrapped up together in six words. This is something Thanos hasn’t touched, something he _can’t_ touch. It’s what they made together. The good and the bad, the damnation and the redemption. Their father brought them together as adversaries, but Gamora has made them sisters. Nebula need only return the embrace.

She does, and for the first time Nebula sees the love behind Gamora’s gaze. A love she didn’t see before but perhaps was always there. Maybe she didn’t want to see it. Maybe it made the torment easier. And she realises that all these years she was wrong. Gamora was never devoted to Thanos. After the destruction of her people, she was simply biding her time, surviving, just like Nebula.

_You will always be my sister._

She turns, and she doesn’t run, she _doesn’t run_. But their paths lead different directions and Nebula’s has always led to Thanos.

Gamora’s acceptance turns Nebula’s world on its head. She sees the life her sister leads, and for the first time Nebula sees that life open to her. That she could do more than kill, do more than hurt. As Gamora said, there are thousands of little girls out there just like she was. And by killing Thanos, by destroying all that he stands for, perhaps Nebula can in turn stop them from becoming like her.

_You will always be my sister._

As she flies on, forging out into the cosmos, Gamora’s words echo with her. And for the first time, she believes her.

_You will always be my sister._

* * *

One by one, Nebula sees the Guardians turn to dust. Then the sorcerer, and finally Stark’s young ward.

Stark collapses and the new reality crashes down around her.

They failed.

They failed.

They _failed._

* * *

He won.

* * *

She feels out of place on Earth.

The loss of Titan, of Gamora, has left her numb.

Years ago, Nebula believed that the loss of feeling would be better, that it would make her struggle easier. No feeling meant that her life was comprehensible. She believed that she and her sister were destined to live and die as enemies.

She knows only now how wrong she was.

The worst part is that there is nothing she can do about it.

* * *

She goes through the motions, but her heart isn’t in it.

There’s a plan, that much she hears. A plan to hunt Thanos down, to reverse “the snap”, to bring justice to the fallen of Asgard, to the Terrans, to her sister.

Hope is a concept she has never known before; the swelling of her heart, almost too slight to notice, the dizzying sensation in her head, the temporary stop of breath.

Nebula doesn’t fell numb any longer.

Thanos, and vengeance, has never been closer.

* * *

Her father has died. The man called Thor took his head, and with all the irrelevance in the world, his body fell to the floor with a quiet, yet final thud.

The silence in the small house is deafening.

She’s supposed to be happy. Her tormentor can’t hurt her, can’t hurt anyone ever again. She supposed to be joyous, and relieved, and peaceful.

Instead she just feels empty.

* * *

The cost of victory was too high.

There is an ache in her chest and she knows that it’s for Gamora. For her sister that she forgave, that she only started to know.

The galaxy feels emptier.

* * *

Nebula works. After a month of standing about, waiting for the Avengers to recover, she refuses to be idle any longer.

She does something good with her life. No one is more surprised at this than Nebula.

World to world, she travels with Rocket and Rhodey. She helps stabilise governments, police communities, keep the peace. It’s nothing that Nebula ever expected to do. Despite all the death and ruin, she’s - _happy, no, not happy, content?_

She’s found that her life can exist outside of her father’s reach.

* * *

She keeps busy.

She has good days. She has bad days. But the good slowly start to outweigh the bad.

Pepper advises her to take up mediation. It’s boring at the start, but after a couple of months of persistence after nagging from the raccoon, Nebula finds it, not “healing”, per se, but definitely relaxing.

She bonds with Rhodey over a dry sense of humour, finds different music she likes. Bruce even teaches her how to play checkers.

She feels free.

* * *

Stark is kind. It’s strange, but not unwelcome.

Every time she returns to Earth, he invites her to his house. She eats dinner with his family and they play board games far into the night. He lets her win every time.

Some nights she finds herself wishing that Tony was her father. She thinks that she may still have her original body. She may still have her sister.

* * *

The raccoon is an interesting companion. She thinks that they work effectively together. She doesn’t like to admit how similar they are.

He quips and snarks. He laughs and deflects. On slower days he sits at the back of the ship and stare into space.

That is their understanding. She won’t ask, and neither will he.

One night their understanding is broken. Four bottles of alcohol later, and he just cries and cries. He tells her nonsense stories about heists that Groot and he took part in, Quill’s Terran habits, the odd comments that Drax made, even how Mantis used her powers on games nights, to the distress of everyone involved.

In return, she listens. Sometimes she even tells Rocket about her, although there’s not much to tell.

They play the game Stark taught her.

She thinks that this is what it’s like to have a friend.

* * *

On one planet, a little girl runs up to Nebula after she frees her from rubble that used to be her house. The girl throws her skinny arms around Nebula’s leg and squeezes hard, laughing of all things.

She looks up and Nebula sees life in her eyes. She looks at Nebula and doesn’t see a machine. She looks at Nebula and sees a person. She sees a hero.

Nebula tentatively returns the hug. No aside from Gamora has ever hugged her before.

She leaves before anyone can see the tears budding in her eyes.

* * *

She wishes Gamora could see her. She thinks her sister would be proud.

It’s a nice thought.

* * *

Then one day they have a plan. They have a fools’ hope to reverse the snap and bring everyone back. And after so long without it, Nebula feels a foreign emotion welling up within her, that she recognises as hope.

Despite this, it occurs to Nebula that Gamora was killed before the snap. A dark voice in her whispers that this will all be for naught. That even if, by some miracle, their idea comes to fruition, it won’t be enough to save her sister. That even with the return of everyone else she knows, Gamora will remain dead.

Maybe she won’t see her sister again, maybe she’s lost forever.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe saving the innocents that Thanos killed is reward enough. Maybe this is what Gamora would have done, what she wanted Nebula to do. Maybe this is where her redemption lies. Maybe together, they’ll win.

Maybe.

* * *

She finds her. Beyond all hope and reason Nebula finds her sister, and she makes her listen. For what feels like the first time in both their lives, Gamora sides with Nebula, and that makes all the difference.

They fight together, the way Nebula knows it always should have been. They work in tandem, like the thrust and the drag, like the head and the heart. They fight, the two of them against their “siblings”, against their father and all his men. They were made by Thanos but refuse to be defined by him. They fight as avengers, as guardians.

And they _win._

* * *

But they lose Stark.

She doesn’t see the moment Tony dies, but when they carry his body from the field, the reality confronts her.

She’s there at his funeral. Nebula stands with Quill and the remaining Guardians at the riverside. There is a great sense of finality to the affair, as if something _more_ than Tony’s life has ended, but she can’t quite say what it is.

She thinks that this may be Tony Stark’s final victory over Thanos. That he leaves behind the Avengers, his inventions, the gauntlet that resurrected half the universe. More than that, Nebula looks at the people standing to say goodbye.

She looks at his daughter, putting on a brave face for all these strangers about her house, at Peter Parker, eyes still red, struggling to keep composure, at the boy called Harley standing slightly apart, but grief still painted clear on his face. Nebula looks on and knows that this is Tony Stark’s true legacy, something of far greater worth than inventions or organisations. This is where his victory over Thanos is most apparent.

She would be proud to call Tony Stark her father.

* * *

After the funeral, Rhodey comes up to her.

He doesn’t say much, just takes her hand and shakes it.

“Nebula, thanks.”

Despite the trivialness of the gesture, she’s surprised at how much it means to her.

Or perhaps it's because of it.

* * *

Gamora doesn’t stay long. After Thanos crumbles to dust, she disappears without a word. And Nebula knows why. When your life has been ripped out from under you, changed beyond recognition, you either fall, or continue on, however you can. And Gamora has never been one to fall.

So, Nebula does the only thing that makes sense, the only thing she _can_ do. She gets up and follows.

_She’s not the same person she once was._

The Guardians plot a course in Gamora’s wake. Her sister doesn’t leave a trail to follow, she was trained to disappear. And Nebula was trained to find. She is their only chance to finding her sister, and she will make sure that they do. She owes Gamora much, more than she realised, and she knows that going into the future, their fates are tied together still.

* * *

After all, they are half of each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Facts that You Should Know:
> 
> \- Nebula’s age was a complete guess.  
\- Yes, I played fast and loose with dates and locations. No, I’m not apologising.  
\- Yes, I know there are probably countless punctuation and grammar errors riddled throughout this fic. No, I don’t have the energy to correct them.  
\- The title is from Still I Rise by Maya Angelou which, while not directly inspiring this fic, did add fuel to the fire.
> 
> My tumblr is @arinanemartell x


End file.
